


What He Needed

by be_brave13



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Canon Compliant, Crying, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Help this boi, Hurt/Comfort, I'm mad about kick so I'm FIXING IT, Keith really loves Lance, Klance is cannon king tbh that's all I know, Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, M/M, Mild Angst, Past Lance/Allura, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, lance is a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-09-18 14:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16997070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/be_brave13/pseuds/be_brave13
Summary: "You’re not…” Keith shook his head and glanced away for a moment and huffed. When his eyes locked back into Lance’s his features were more determined.“You’re not okay, are you?”--Eight months after everything, Lance hasn't seen anyone since Shiro's wedding. He's isolated himself on a small farm and he isn't doing okay.A surprise attack on Earth and an intervention from Keith help him start to get back on his feet.





	1. i could never sleep when you're gone

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so what the fuck was season eight???? Tbh there were elements that I really enjoyed but idk what the point of Allurance was esp when Allura died in the end?????? What happened to slowburn? All the kick parallels? Lance being someone's first choice? Lance getting not who he wants but who he needs??????? 
> 
> Mkay VLD, go off I guess. And the end with Lance being a stupid sadboi instead of doing something more? They really sacrificed his entire character for Allura I guess. 
> 
> ANYWAY. I had to fix that shit, because I couldn't let it rest there. 
> 
> So, reluctantly, this is cannon compliant because I don't have time to fix everything and I'm taking into account bi Lance and from the angle that Lance really had feelings for Allura (but also Keith in the back of his mind). 
> 
> So here's to Klance endings no matter what!!
> 
> (chapter title from Shadow on the Wall by Brandi Carlile, which I imagine is relevant to lance's state of mind during this time)

Lance had truly loved Allura. She was a strong woman, down to the very core of her being. She was ethereal and beautiful in both her looks and her her spirit. He fell in love when she fell into his arms and his feelings for her only strengthened with time.

 

She made him want to be a better person.

 

And, when he finally worked up the courage to take her on a date, he was so extremely happy. That night would live forever in his memory, a shrine to the time they could have had together. She’d looked so beautiful in that dress, and the Altean magic that she’d used to revive his tree left sparkles in the air that cast a warm glow upon her skin.

 

He knew in that moment he’d spend the rest of his life following Allura if she’d let him. It was their last night on Earth, so he told her just that.

 

Seeing the smile on her face had made it all worth it. All his pining fell away, all those times she’d brushed him off or when she was falling for Lotor or when he’d first confessed and she’d rejected him… It didn’t matter anymore. Because here she was, there they were, and her iridescent blue eyes looked warm into his before they shuttered closed and they’d kissed.

 

It had felt like flying, like the world was just beginning and all his dreams were coming true. Somehow, Lance felt an impression on his mind. Five kids. Living in a pale blue house next door to Hunk. Waking up together, morning after morning, day after day. Loud laughter. Rocking chairs. The glow of Altean magic. Two hands clasped together, the bond between them unbreakable. He felt love, unyielding and immeasurable.

 

They came apart, and he’d felt anew.

 

Coming out of the memory, Lance looked away from the photo clutched in his hands from that night. He put it down, releasing it from the tight grip and smoothing it over to ensure it remained in perfect condition.

 

Now, he felt nowhere near that puddle of ecstasy he’d been. Everything felt dull and hollow.

 

It had been eight months since everything ended. Eight months since they’d beat Honerva, and Allura walked away from him to join the ranks of the Altean warriors who had come before her.

 

He ran his fingertips over the Altean marks left on his face slowly, feeling the slightly smoother texture of his skin where they lay. He let his eyes fall shut as the brokenness of his spirit overtook him again.

 

He’d moved away from his family, away from Voltron after Shiro’s wedding. Now, he spent his time alternating between learning how to farm and not being able to pick himself up out of bed.

 

Some people offered to visit, but he told them he just wanted to be alone and brushed them off. Thankfully, there was so much else to do, rebuilding and finally living the lives they’d come so close to losing, that Lance was able to let himself fall into the backs of their minds.

 

“I’ll let everyone know if I need help,” he’d said, his mask up strong. “I’ve just missed Earth and I wanna reconnect a little with Mother Nature. I’ll be fine.”

 

Thankfully, they’d believed him.

 

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Today was a bad day. He had nightmares again, Honerva’s purple distorted quintessence beams shooting, and it took five minutes after waking up to convince himself that he wasn’t in Voltron any longer and he wasn’t in danger.

 

After that, he’d worked in the garden until he couldn’t ignore his hunger any longer and he ate briefly before washing himself and ending up here.

 

Thinking about Allura, again.

 

He knew that he wasn’t helping himself. He was isolated, no human contact, didn’t speak to his friends, ate only when he had to, probably had PTSD and was depressed. His clothes hung loosely on him and the last time he’d looked in a mirror his face was gaunt and tired. He’d taken the mirror down.

 

But he couldn’t let her go. After pining for so long after her, being so painfully in love with her… Lance could only see the future he’d been shown of them together and how it would never come to pass. He’d dream of it, but it would turn into a nightmare.

 

All he had left of it was his memories, the picture of their date, and the Altean marks resting on his cheekbones. If nothing else, he had those.

 

It wasn’t dark, and he hadn’t done much all day, but Lance was exhausted. He huffed before settling onto his bed, moving the picture to his nightstand, and trying his best to get some rest, nightmares be damned.

 

His last thought before drifting off was that at least he could see Allura again in his dreams.

 

\---

 

Lance awoke to someone pounding on his door.

 

“Lance! I know you’re in there. Open the door… Please?” It took him a second to place the voice, but it was definitely Keith.

 

Lance panicked at the thought, not wanting Keith to see his bare home and ragged appearance. Quickly, he raked his fingers through his hair and threw on a puffy sweater that would hopefully hide the worst of his thin frame.

 

He cleared his throat and yelled back, “Coming!” It sounded rough and he winced while running down the stairs.  

 

Lance flung the door open to see Keith, his hair in a ponytail and and a look of relief on his face that soon faded into confusion.

 

“Lance?” His voice was laced with hesitation.

 

Lance spread his arms and smiled tiredly. “Ese es mi nombre, ¿no? Yeah Keith, it’s me.”

 

Keith’s face faded into relief once more. “Thank god you’re okay.” He flung himself into Lance’s arms, slinging his own around Lance’s torso, which made Lance flinch in shock.

 

Keith Kogane was here, at his house, hugging him? Was he dreaming?

 

Tentatively, Lance wrapped his arms back around Keith and squeezed in return. Something inside him melted at that, and he pulled Keith tighter to himself.

 

“Lance.” Keith’s voice was breathy, he could feel it on his neck with Keith’s head on his shoulder. “We were all so worried about you. You haven’t been replying for months, and two weeks ago we– we had a minor incident with a faction, a f-faction that tried to attack Earth. We were so worried, we thought they’d taken you or that you’d been hurt. I’m so happy. You’re okay.”  

 

Lance felt something stir in him at the sentiment, but bitterness crushed it readily. Frankly, he wasn’t okay. Looking back at his behavior over the last couple months, he knew it was pathetic. He just hadn’t been able to drag himself out of it, and he’d isolated himself so that he didn’t have anyone else to lean on. He’d told himself that they all had their own problems and nobody wanted to take on the extra weight of his baggage when they should finally be allowed to be happy. But that was just himself making excuses.

 

He blew out an unsteady breath. Tears rose to the surface and he tried to blink them away, but he needed to speak.

 

“Did you get everything handled alright, Team Leader?” It was shaky and rough, and evidently Keith could tell, because he pulled away just enough to look Lance in the eyes.  

 

 _“Lance."_ Keith made his name sound like an admonishment and a prayer all in one. His eyebrows pulled together and his head tilted minusculely, the purple in his eyes shining with concern. He moved an arm to rest a hand on Lance’s cheek and wipe a tear that threatened to spill over.

 

“We dealt with it. But you’re not…” Keith shook his head and glanced away for a moment and huffed. When his eyes locked back into Lance’s his features were more determined.

 

“You’re not okay, are you?”

 

Lance’s jaw started to tremble and a lump gathered in his throat. He shut his eyes and felt a wave of the pain and sadness inside flow over him.

 

He was too overwhelmed to speak and he shook his head as he could no longer hold back the tears and let them flow with abandon.

 

“I just– I can’t– I _miss her_ , Keith. I miss her.” He was a blubbering mess, letting the emotions he’d been holding back since their return to Earth wash over him.

 

Keith pulled Lance back into him, literally offering his shoulder for Lance to cry on. He collapsed on it, grateful for the soft place to land.

 

He’d been cheated with Allura. They’d had one date after countless years of pining, then a few kisses stolen in their precious hours of downtime before the final battle came and she left.

 

But he couldn’t let it go. After all, Shiro had come back after being long thought dead. And he didn’t want to forget her, let her memory and causes and strength fade into oblivion. Somebody had to know her, had to keep her strength and kindness and smile and laugh and heart in the forefront of their mind. If he didn’t do it, then he would forget. And he never wanted to forget about Allura. She changed him, changed his _life_ , for the better.

 

“I know it’s not the same way that you do, but… We all miss her, Lance. And it’s okay not to be okay. You can let go now. I’m here and I won’t leave.” Keith muttered nonsense into his hair as he used one hand to card through it softly, and the other rubbed his back in slow circles.

 

When the tears started to slow, Lance began to speak.

 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help fight the faction.” _I’m sorry I left you all_ , he meant to say.

 

“It’s okay Lance. It’s been a rough time for us all.” _We’re not mad,_ he heard.

 

“I should’ve, I should have _been there_.”

 

Keith’s hands stopped moving and the one on his back clutched at his sweater.

 

“I’m going to tell you something, Lance, okay?” Keith sighed, his voice soft but precise. “When we finished the battle, after Shiro’s wedding, I didn’t know what to do. For so long, we’ve been Voltron, or I’ve been with the Blade. I don’t know how to stop fighting, Lance. I don’t think I know _how_ to stop fighting.

 

“So, listen to me. I know that you feel hopeless right now, and you miss her. I know that you don’t know how to stop. Maybe you have nightmares. Maybe sometimes you can’t get up in the mornings or you can’t sleep at night. That’s okay. That’s all of us.

 

“That’s Shiro with Adam. That’s Hunk with his siblings. That’s me with my dad. That’s Romelle with her brother. And that’s Coran with Allura.

 

“It’s hard. It sucks. You don’t know how to get up, I get it. But Lance. Lance, we miss them, and we don’t want to have to miss you too. Lance, please look at me.”

 

Lance stepped away and wiped his eyes before flicking them up to Keith’s face under his lashes. Tear tracks were clear on Keith’s cheeks, and the raw emotions lay unfiltered on his face. Grief, determination, affection, honesty, and pain met him in earnest, but it made Lance look away.

 

“Lance. Will you let me help you?”

 

In his field of vision, Keith stuck out his hand, letting it hover in the empty air until Lance made a decision.

 

He forced himself to look at where he was headed. An empty shack and the picture of Allura fading away with the rest of him. Bitterness and sadness filling his life.

 

But if he took Keith’s hand, there was a chance. A glimmer of something, his blood family and his chosen family pressed close around him.

 

His gaze snapped up to Keith’s eyes once more before he looked back down and grabbed Keith’s hand like a lifeline.

 

And somehow, Lance felt an impression on his mind. His little cousins running around. A grey house next door to Shiro and Curtis. Dinners together, all of his family and friends, month after month. Soft, suppressed chuckles at midnight. Soft music. The flash of Kosmo teleporting. A group of people holding hands, supporting each other.

 

Lance felt _love_ , unyielding and immeasurable. He knew he was enough.

 

He gasped and looked up to see Keith’s small, proud smile.

 

Their hands came apart, and he felt anew.

  



	2. be gentle when you handle me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance goes home and sees his family again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? I added more? Uhhhh yeah I did. Hopefully y'all like it!
> 
> Chapter title from Natasha Bedingfield's I Bruise Easily which has no official relevance!

Lance looked at the people around him and let a smile lift his mouth. 

 

After Keith showed up at his house and they’d both cried their hearts out, they’d needed some rest. The next day, Keith got Lance to tell him more about his time there. Seeing Keith in the house entrenched in sadness felt wrong. It spurned Lance to make a decision. 

 

“I want to leave this place.” He told Keith. Thankfully, this made Keith smile. 

 

“Then we should go.” He made it sound so easy. 

 

Keith helped him make a list and pack up all his things in the house within three days. Most of it was still in boxes, and there wasn’t much of it to begin with, anyway. 

 

Keith loaded everything into Black, who had been sitting on Lance’s front lawn since Keith’s arrival. 

 

“You ready to go, sharpshooter?” The look in his eyes made Lance’s heart pump in excitement. He hadn’t flown since their return to Earth. 

 

“Take me away, mullet.” It was a miracle how much more motivation he felt while Keith was near. 

 

And as Black rose into the sky, Lance’s stomach swooped and he started to laugh. When he caught a glimpse of Keith’s profile, he saw a grin so wide that it made him want to laugh again. 

 

He knew leaving the shack had been the right call. And now, as he sat at this table sandwiched between Hunk and his sister, it felt like less of him was missing. 

 

It had taken Keith a couple days to persuade him into the big dinner, but when Keith promised it’d be just as torturous for him as it would be for Lance, he agreed. 

 

“As long as we can stick together and share the misery, though” he made sure to qualify the agreement with a teasing smile. 

 

And that had lead them to this moment of reflection. Lance let his smile fall on Keith, who was sitting across from him and in between Shiro and Lance’s mamá. 

 

Keith was wearing his hair in a ponytail again, and Lance thought it was a good look for him. He was smiling at something Shiro was saying. Lance was glad to see him happy. 

 

He looked around, and saw smiles on everyone’s faces. It made the small flame within him burn brighter. Keith convincing him to do this was a grand idea. 

 

“Lance, mijo, ¿en qué estás pensando?” His mamá’s voice jerked him out of his warm, dopey, fond thoughts. 

 

“Nothing, mamá, just thinking. Estoy feliz que estoy con todos, aquí.”  

 

His mamá’s face melted, and Verónica gave him a little shoulder bump. Hunk leaned over too, but complained loudly.

 

“Dude, you know that nobody besides your family speaks Spanish here, and if you’re gossiping about us you know you can say it to my face, right? We’re good enough buddies for that, okay?” There was a teasing quirk to his mouth and a shine in his eyes. 

 

“Yeah, I said your roasted bacon brussel sprout things with balsamic tasted like shit, Hunk.” He teased back. “My mamá wanted to know who made them so she knew who not to invite back.” 

 

He and Hunk kept their mock serious faces on each other for two tense seconds of withheld laughter before they both burst into loud cackles of delight. 

 

When they’d calmed down Shiro said, “Hunk,  _ I _ think your brussel sprouts taste amazing. If you get kicked out of the McClain household, you’ll always be welcome at the Shirogane-Hopkins’, right babe?”

 

Curtis nodded enthusiastically in agreement and spooned more brussel sprouts onto his plate. 

 

Hunk stuck out his tongue at Lance in triumph and Lance felt a flashback to days in the castle experimenting with alien foods. He actually kind of missed eating cha’khadi fruit from the planet Gralegh, which Hunk had figured out how to make ice cream from (which became a favorite treat until it ran out). The memory was so bright that it made him smile even wider than before. 

 

Through dinner, their discussion stayed on lighter topics and even went in-depth about the work the others were doing. 

 

Shiro and Curtis were working full-time at the Garrison again; Shiro was a sought-after teacher in strategy and command. Keith told everyone more about his relief efforts he was in the process of setting up. Hunk was perfecting recipes and making a cookbook while helping rebuild his family’s home. He yearned for some oddities that were only found in space, and the rest of the Voltron crew sympathized with him. Pidge practically leapt up onto the table and yelled about now that Earth knew about aliens, they could have some space food imported, and she occupied Hunk’s attention for quite some time discussing the logistics of that. 

 

Lance thought everything was going quite well until the dessert course, when Verónica innocently asked him a question about what he’d been doing and how he’d been feeling the last couple months. Immediately, his grin twisted into a grimace and his grip on his fork tightened in lieu of reaching up to brush across his Altean marks. 

 

“I just needed some time to myself.” He ended up saying after a pause. A lump formed in the bottom of his throat, but Lance was not about to open that can of worms in front of everyone. 

 

Thankfully, Keith noticed the tightness of his face and swooped in to save him. 

 

“He was doing some farming and reflection. Thankfully, I convinced him he could do the same at home instead of someplace like my desert shack!” Keith flashed an over-the-top grin that he usually employed to signify a joke. It was one Lance only started seeing after Keith returned to Voltron with Krolia. 

 

Shiro, thank goodness, laughed loudly, followed by a couple others and an inquiry from Lance’s brother Marco that  _ Keith had lived in a desert shack? _

 

They continued to talk about it and Pidge resurfaced from her chat with Hunk to perform a dramatic retelling of Keith’s Voltron conspiracy cork board he’d had up. 

 

“I swear to God there was a picture of Mothman on there. No joke! And when I cornered him about it one time on the castleship, he tried to pretend he didn’t know what I was talking about, but I got him to crack after a few weeks.” 

 

“Hey!” Keith protested. “You can’t leave this out of context. You believe in Mothman too! You told me that if all those aliens exist then it’s more than plausible that cryptids are out there on our planet!” 

 

“Yeah, but I didn’t think Mothman was behind Voltron! What kind of theory is that?” 

 

They delved into their usual cryptids talk and soon everyone tuned them out and continued to talk about other things. 

 

When the dinner was over, and everyone finally left, Lance was left standing at the sink next to Keith. He was washing and Keith was drying. 

 

There was a window in front of him, but it was dark outside. He could only see his own reflection on the glass, eyes a little too wide with bags a little too deep under them. He just smiled at himself and let it be. He didn’t want to spoil the joy still in his heart after being surrounded by his loved ones. 

 

“Thanks for tonight, Keith,” Lance ended up saying. He meant it. Feeling as warm and alive as he did now was like returning to Earth’s ocean after being in space for so many years. It was comforting and he felt rejuvenated in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

 

“You’re welcome, Lance.” He leaned in to grab the next dish, and Lance could see Keith’s reflection next to his. Keith looked content, a soft smile on his face and that infuriating ponytail falling out just a little. “I’m glad you decided to come back. We missed having you with us.” 

 

The comment made Lance blush a little bit, and he ducked his chin to stop looking at his reflection. The rest of their dish cleaning passed with a few jokes thrown in, Keith at one point twisting his towel and snapping it at Lance. 

 

Grinning so wide that his cheeks hurt, Lance found his eyes linger on Keith’s face as he laughed, boisterous and loud. It filled Lance up even more to see Keith happy. When Keith had shown up to his shack, he’d been distraught over losing Lance. He never wanted Keith to feel that way again. He never wanted anyone to have to miss him again. 

 

The thought made his smile melt into something fonder. 

 

That night, he looked at the picture of himself and Allura on the nightstand alongside the hologram of her he’d finally recharged when he’d returned to civilization. 

 

He still felt the ache, but it was just a little less than before; bruised instead of fractured. He brushed his fingers across her face in the photo. 

 

“Hey Allura,” he whispered. It felt silly, but he needed to talk to her. “I came back and Keith hosted dinner with everyone for me. He’s done a lot for me recently. He helped me move back, he makes me laugh, he really cares about me but he’s never pushed me to do anything I don’t want to do. I’m so happy he came, though.” Lance stopped to take a deep breath.

 

“I know that if I stayed there I would have never left. I would have barely lived at all. Allura, that scares me so much, that if Keith didn’t show up at my door I would have died in that shack by myself.” He felt tears well up behind his eyes. 

 

“But he got me to come back.” The words barely made it past his lips. He let a few tears fall before wiping them off his cheeks and laughing self-consciously.

 

“God I’m such a mess, ‘Llura. I know this isn’t the end of my problems, but I’m on my way there, yeah? I still miss you, still love you. Hope the stars are treating you right.” 

 

He flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling in the dark. When sleep finally overtook him, it remained blessedly dreamless and peaceful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Lance smiles a lot and he's mildly obsessed with Keith's ponytail. 
> 
> (the ponytail might be me projecting onto him but leTS NOT TALK ABOUT THAT) 
> 
> I had absolutely zero plans to make a whole story out of this when I first wrote it but apparently my brain was like "mhm go off. just keep going. don't stop." and so I didn't? And tbh I think they're going to be more like selected vignettes than an actual story but that is okay. 
> 
> Let me know how it went!
> 
> Translation for the Spanish convo Lance has with his mamá: 
> 
> Mamá: Lance, son, what are you thinking about?  
> Lance: I'm happy that I'm here with everyone.


	3. if you say it’ll be alright; i’ll follow you into the light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance settles into life at Keith's house, or doesn't. They try to fix themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh nice to see y'all again! 
> 
> Just wanted you all to know that this chapter has some heavier stuff than last time. Some talk here about therapy, PTSD, and coming to terms with mental illness (though that part might just be me projecting onto Lance again). Also a mention of the foster care system, which I have no actual knowledge on, so take all that I say with a grain of salt.
> 
> Chapter title from Sara Bareilles' The Light
> 
> With that, enjoy!

 

Two whole weeks after the dinner, Lance was settling into life back at the house. Unfortunately, settling meant that the afterglow of the dinner had worn off and real life had crept back up to him with all of its problems along for the ride.  

 

And he wasn’t the only one of the paladins who had visible moments in which he was not coping well with his transition back into life as a civilian. Thankfully, it was better than it had been at the shack, because now he wanted to get better.

 

The pace at which they were moving, however, was infuriatingly slow. 

 

Lance would wake up screaming in the dead of night, unable to go back to sleep. He was better at realizing that he wasn’t in the middle of battle coming out of nightmares, but it still took him some time to gather himself. It was noisier here, as well, and sometimes certain noises would make him panic, reaching for his bayard that he no longer carried around with him. 

 

It was good, he'd decided, that he was living with Keith. They took turns calming each other down and sitting together late at night watching crap TV when they couldn’t sleep. 

 

Seeing the team and his family more often made Lance’s heart fill. There were still things he needed to tell them, but being able to see them when he wanted took a weight off his chest. 

 

Unfortunately, everything came screeching to a halt one afternoon. 

 

Lance was on his way to get Keith out of his “office” where he talked with Krolia and Kolivan about the relief efforts he was trying to set up. It was lunch time, and Lance needed to make sure that Keith actually ate something instead of working all day. 

 

Just as he was about to knock on the door, Lance heard Keith’s voice talking, presumably on the phone. 

 

“No mom,” he said, “I can’t go and help right now. You told me you could take care of it until I was ready… No. There’s still some things I need to do around here. And I’m helping with the plans, aren’t I?” He paused and sighed. Then, his tone turned to regret with an edge of anger. “Mom. Lance is staying at my house, and I cannot in good conscience leave him here alone right now. He needs me.” 

 

Lance felt his jaw clench and his hands rolled themselves into fists. He rocked back onto his heels before bouncing forward on his feet to burst into Keith’s office. 

 

Upon seeing Lance, Keith’s gaze widened before morphing into an “Oh shit” expression. 

 

“Mom I gotta go, something came up. Talk to you later, love you bye.” The phone was down on Keith’s desk in record time. 

 

“What is it Lance? What happened?” He sounded concerned, worried, and definitely not as wary as he should have. 

 

Lance stepped closer to him, eyes narrow. 

 

“What happened, Keith, was that I heard you turn down Krolia to help save people’s lives to look after me like a little kid! I know that I might not be the picture of mental health, but you cannot put your life on hold because you think I’m going to fall apart. Dios mío, Shiro lives  _ next fucking door  _ and if I didn’t want to stay alone I could go to Hunk’s or my family’s place or the Holt’s! So, what happened is that I realized that you,” he jabbed a finger at Keith, “need to stop thinking that I’m a child who needs saving.” 

 

Through his speech, Keith had sunk back into his desk chair, making his figure seem small and tired. The bags under his eyes looked pronounced. His shoulders curved inward and a modicum of guilt was visible in how he bit his lip. 

 

Keith let out a deep breath, but then decided to meet Lance’s gaze fully. 

 

“Lance, I spent eight months worrying about you to find you in some fucking shack looking like the dead. Excuse me if I’m a bit worried about leaving you again.” 

 

Lance felt some of the anger seeping out of him at that and looked away, because honestly? That was a low blow, but Keith wasn’t wrong. He winced and thought of how visible his ribs had been thanks to his unhealthy habits. 

 

“So? I’m back in civilization, I don’t want to do that again, and I wouldn’t be alone Keith.” 

 

Keith grimaced and ran a hand over his face. “Lance. I really don’t want to talk about this. Now isn’t a good time for me to go anyway.” 

 

Lance pursed his lips, but decided to let it go just this once. He could try again after they ate lunch. 

 

“Fine. I came in here to get you to eat something. If you come out, I made some pasta.” He walked through the doorway, still annoyed but willing to retreat for the time being. 

 

When Keith joined him a few minutes later, the atmosphere of the room was tense as if they were back at their first few weeks in space. Lance had tried to let the argument go, but his blood was still simmering with the heat of anger. 

 

He might have been stabbing his penne with a little more vigor than normal as well, but what else could he do? 

 

They ate in silence, just the clinking of forks and stilted air sitting between them, pointedly not making eye contact even though they sat directly across from each other. 

 

“Lance.” Keith finally broke the silence. 

 

Lance pursed his lips but decided to look at him. 

 

Keith looked reluctant, his jaw working as he stared off to the side. “There’s more that I didn’t say, and the only way for you to understand is if I’m honest, I guess,” he said, his voice softer than it normally was. His pointer finger tapped on the countertop. 

 

“Yes, I’ve heard you screaming in the middle of the night and I’ve seen you flinch at sudden noises, but that isn't the only reason why I’m refusing to leave. You see, I hear your screams because of my own insomnia, I see your flinches because I flinch too, and for goodness sake, my eyes cross paths with yours when we scan a room for threats upon entering. We  _ both _ have PTSD, Lance.” He turned his gaze to Lance, searching for his understanding. 

 

“I can’t leave because I feel safer with you at my back, in this house with me. My life isn’t on hold, I’m just healing myself before I leave to heal others. Krolia and Kolivan are more than capable of handling things on their own until I get there.”

 

Lance felt the air rush out of his lungs at Keith’s admissions. 

 

_ Fuck, I feel like a complete asshole.  _

 

Of course Keith wasn’t sticking around just for him. Keith was right to be worried about his own mental health and state of being. Lance had been mad at him for using Lance as an excuse to his mom, which Lance couldn’t be mad about, because he too was using Keith as an excuse to not face his family after leaving them for eight months on his Allura breakdown. 

 

“Okay,” he finally let out, “okay. I understand Keith, I get it. But that relief stuff is still important, yeah? Don’t stop just because you aren’t there, okay?” 

 

Keith nodded. “I would never. There are millions of people out there who need our help and I won’t abandon them.” He paused for a minute and his expression faltered from resolute to hesitant. “But I also just got you back, sharpshooter, and I’m gonna need you to fill your quota before I can leave.” 

 

Lance smiled. “Yeah, I can do that.” He sat for a minute and let his mind wander. 

 

Lance did not want to be the reason that Keith didn’t live his life. He also did not want to sit around Keith’s house doing nothing for the rest of his own life. He was trying to get better, Keith was trying to get better, but it didn’t feel like enough. 

 

Coming to terms with his shitty mental health for real in the first week at Keith’s house had been a doozy. After a really shitty nightmare that he took awhile to come out of, Lance found Keith still awake and in front of the TV watching Jeopardy looking tired and in need of rest. 

 

They’d started talking, and Lance said it aloud for the first time. 

 

“I think I have PTSD, man, and that’s why I feel so shitty all the time, and have those fucked up nightmares and shit.” Alex Trebek's wrong buzzer beeped in the background, and Lance watched Trebek’s visage as he frowned in disappointment while correcting the contestant. 

 

“I know.” He heard Keith say. “I have it too. I think we all have it, along with that stupid survivor’s guilt.” He sounded choked up at that confession, and Lance felt his eyes well up with tears. 

 

It wasn’t that it had been anything new. If anything, Lance had known for almost a year now that he had PTSD. But the act of saying it aloud to another person, admitting to it, for some reason was entirely different. 

 

And Keith didn’t tell him that he was wrong, didn’t say “Oh you’re mistaken and you’re just being sensitive,” didn’t do anything but tell him he already knew and that he wasn’t alone. 

 

It was validating, that someone believed him, and somehow that simple knowledge had the power to send him over the edge with relief. 

 

They didn’t go much into detail that night, opting to cry together but not talk about it. Lance somehow thought that he would be better after that, but things had stayed much the same. 

 

When Shiro had come over to the house for dinner three nights ago, Curtis otherwise occupied, the three of them had talked about it briefly. 

 

“Curtis has both of us going to therapy,” Shiro admitted readily. 

 

A vaguely uncomfortable expression crossed Keith’s face, and as Lance caught it he wondered what it could have meant. Did Keith not approve of therapy? 

 

“I hope it’s helping,” Lance told him sincerely, choosing to think about Keith later. 

 

Shiro had smiled wryly. “Oh it sucks, but I think I’ll be better for it in the end.” He tapped his head. “There’s a lot of messed up shit up here, boys, as you might guess. Melding consciousness with a magical mechanical space lion for two years, living in the body of your clone, and, of course,  _ dying _ will do that to you.” The smile turned more teasing as he’d continued. “Also being in charge of these four bratty unmannered teenagers for a couple of years. Whoo boy, that was stressful, and I deserve a  _ vacation _ for all that hard work.” 

 

At that, they’d all laughed, then the conversation had moved on. 

 

Lance had never brought up therapy again, but he’d thought about it. 

 

_ There’s nothing to be ashamed about with going to therapy. If Shiro’s going… it might be a good idea for me to go too.  _

 

He ended up thinking about it when he couldn’t sleep, and he’d even ask Allura about it when he talked to her every night before bed. 

 

He ruminated on what Keith’s expression had been about, but he’d come up with nothing substantial and he was too afraid to talk to Keith about it.

 

_ But,  _ he thought as his mind came back to the present,  _ now would be a perfect time to bring it up.  _

 

“Can I ask you something?” He blurted, thinking  _ Fuck it, why not? _

 

Keith cocked an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t call him out on the sudden change of topic. “Sure,” he shrugged. 

 

“Well, it’s okay if you don’t want to answer my question,” Lance started off. “But in the spirit of honesty hour, do you mind telling my why you got all…” he searched for the word, “weird,” he decided with a hand wave, “when Shiro mentioned that he was going to therapy?” 

 

Keith grimaced immediately. 

 

“It’s okay! You don’t have to say anything, forget I asked.” Lance hastily took back his words. 

 

Keith sighed and looked at him wearily. “It’s not a huge deal Lance, I can tell you. It’s just, this is from  _ before _ before, so it feels a little dumb to still have it in my head after being through an entire space war.” He laughed in a self-deprecating manner. 

 

“Well, as you know, after my dad died I was put in the system. And one of the things that they “provided” for me was mental health services. Unfortunately, since I got moved around a lot for, uh,  _ behavioral issues,  _ my therapist changed a lot too. And in one of the places I spent a lot of time at, I had this therapist, Dr. Hilda, and she was awful. I don’t want to get into it, but she obviously didn’t give a shit about me.” His tone was matter of a fact, as if he was reading out a dry paper of statistics. The partially vacant expression on Keith’s face made Lance want Dr. Hilda to answer for what she’d done to Keith.

 

“Oh Keith.” He couldn’t help the sympathetic words from escaping his lips. “God that sucks, I’m sorry to hear that you got stuck with the one bitch who was probably a state funded worker doing the bare minimum. But listen to me, alright?” His mind was churning out ideas, finding solutions to this problem as readily as he had in the heat of battle.  

 

“Nowadays, we hold a little more weight than the average citizen. We’re Paladins of Voltron, Saviors of the Universe!” He’d changed his tone to that of a pompous announcer on the last sentence. “So after doing all that work on the front, I think we’re both entitled to a nice ass therapist who actually cares about their job, is one of the top in their field, and probably costs a shit ton.” He felt a smirk coming on at the end of his speech, but pushed it down in favor of looking at Keith to see his response. 

 

Thankfully, some of Lance’s passion had transferred to Keith. “Yeah, fuck Dr. Hilda,” he said, as if it were the first time he was cursing her name. Lance wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was proud of Keith for that. 

 

“And,” Keith continued, a less defiant and more thoughtful expression creasing his face, “we  _ should  _ be able to pick a nice ass therapist after all we’ve done.”

 

“Would you be willing to really see one?” Lance kept the question non-judgemental.

 

“I don’t know.” Keith let out slowly. “I know it probably won’t happen, but I just really don’t want there to be another Dr. H.” 

 

Lance considered the possibility for a moment; he agreed that Keith should never have to talk to a therapist who didn’t want to help him or value his time. 

 

_ How can I ensure that?  _ He pondered before epiphany crashed into him. 

 

“Well if you feel really unsure about it… maybe we could ask Shiro? I mean, if he trusts his therapist, maybe you could trust him too?” Lance knew Keith’s pseudo-brother was someone he trusted with more than just his life, and having Shiro’s confidence on his side could make trusting the therapist easier.

 

Keith’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. “You know, Lance, that’s actually a really good idea.” He sounded impressed, and Lance’s cheeks heated just the slightest bit.

 

He tucked his head, almost coy, and found his fingers playing with the edges of his shirt sleeve. “You think that might work?” 

 

Keith was determined again. “Yeah, I do.” He sounded like the leader of Voltron then, dishing out assignments to the rest of the crew. “In fact, I’ll ask Shiro about it tomorrow.” The wind in his sails seemed to falter for a moment. “Uh, can you be there with me when I do?” 

 

Lance reached across the countertop to cover Keith’s hand with his. “Of course I can.” 

 

And just like taking Keith’s hand at the shack, he knew that they had just taken a step in the right direction. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excerpt from my notes for this chapter: 
> 
> After things calm down a bit, they try the discussion again.
> 
> lance: keith. we should both see a therapist. eh? eh.
> 
> keith: that… actually… as much as i hate it, sounds like a very good idea. 
> 
> lance: lmao love that ptsd yeahh boiiiii
> 
> keith: lmao rip us


End file.
